


Something’s Off.

by serotoninwife



Category: Gentleman Bastard Sequence - Scott Lynch
Genre: F/M, The Republic of Thieves, and mentions of what they do to redheads, bitches be wanting more locketha content and it’s me i’m bitches, but we got some quality chains content, dad!chains, e for emotional vulnerability, espara, i tagged underage bc like what even are sabetha and locke’s ages when they start slapping cheeks?, i think i just summed up their entire dynamic, i’m @ing myself, locke is a love struck horndog, locketha, mentions of jeremites, protective dad!chains, rereading the republic of thieves got me like hmm, sabetha is an angry horndog, so if you see a problem be the solution and write some goddamn smut, specifically involving chains finding out, there needs to be more gb fanfic, there should be more post-espara content on this site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23447824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serotoninwife/pseuds/serotoninwife
Summary: After his gaggle of thieving children return home from Espara, Chains notices something off about Sabetha and Locke. Somethingdifferentand whatever it is, he really doesn’t like it.my take on chains finding out about their realtionship(all characters belong to our lord and savior scott lynch!!)
Relationships: Jean Tannen/Jenora (past & background), Locke Lamora & Calo Sanza & Galdo Sanza & Jean Tannen, Locke Lamora & Father Chains, Locke Lamora & Jean Tannen, Sabetha Belacoros & Father Chains, Sabetha Belacoros & Jean Tannen, Sabetha Belacoros/Locke Lamora
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	1. Something Was Off.

**Author's Note:**

> okay shoutout to nada @gentlememe-bastards on tumblr for bein my first friend on tumblr to freak out over this series with!! and also shoutout to jay for doing the same and for some midnight tumblrized therapy. i love y’all!  
> anyways i loved the idea of locke and sabetha being horny little shits who couldn’t keep a secret so much that i had to write a fic about it. here she be

Something was off. Chains couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something amongst his five Gentleman Bastards had _changed_ in Espara. Something they weren’t telling him. And whatever it was, he didn’t fucking like it.

He was preaching on the steps of the temple when he heard them approach. He hadn’t known it was them when they first walked up, of course. He may not have been eyeless, but the blindfold did a good job of incapacitating him as if he were. His voice was booming as he spoke of the mercy of Perelandro, the heat of the last rays of Camorri sun burning onto his skin.

“Giacomo, toss a coin to your eyeless priest.” The familiar voice of Galdo Sanza sang clear from several feet away. Chains smiled despite himself.

“No, Castellano, I insist that _you_ should have the honor of making the offering.” Calo said with a grin that Chains could hear.

“Truly, dear brother _I insist_ that _you_ —“ Galdo was cut off with the sound of several coins joining those already in the offering pot.

“Now that I’ve made the offering, dearest fucking companions, I’ll offer up a prayer to the most generous Perelandro that he might grant me a bit of mercy and shut the two of you the fuck up.” This one came from Locke. Chains grinned again as he stood.

“Two hundred years of the blessings of Perelandro upon you and your family!” He boomed. Chains then opened his hands facing up towards the sky as the hour of falselight rapidly approached. “Come dear friends, extend your mercy to help  
this old priest with the temple’s closing rites?” The Gentleman Bastards hurried up the steps and into the temple, making haste to close the doors. Once they were shut, Chains removed his blindfold, Jean working quickly to remove his manacles. He paused to look at his gaggle of kids. Galdo’s hair was at a short buzz, and Calo’s still tucked neatly in a ponytail. Jean seemed to have grown even taller, gods help his poor old garrista. Locke seemed to be at his height now, nearly giving the priest a headache. Sabetha was still just as short, thank the gods, but the roots of her hair shined orange as flames in the alchemical light of the temple. There was no chatter, only silent anticipation from his children, and Chains suddenly became acutely aware of how they left off, a pained expression falling over his face as he embarrassingly recalled his harshness. Chains then opened his arms, an almost sheepish expression on his face.

“Forgive me?” He asked. His children all grinned as they joined in his embrace.

“Forgiven. _Much_ forgiven.” Locke whispered, which got a chuckle out of Sabetha for some reason, as if there were a private joke they shared.

That was off.

An hour later, the children were all gathered by the table as he laid their welcome dinner before them. He poured each of them a glass of orange wine before pouring one for himself and for Another.

“We pour a glass to air for our mysterious Benefactor. We thank you for keeping watch over your faithful servants in Espara and we also give thanks to your brother, Callo Androno for delivering them safely back home.” There was a brief pause before Chains sat down, finished with the blessings, and they all began to eat. He was so grateful to have them back, gathered around the table, but he did have to be sure that their journey was fruitful.

“So,” He started, swallowing his first bite of boiled goose. “Tell me what you learned.” He asked casually, waiting for the first child to speak up.

“Locke and Sabetha learned quite a lot.” Said Jean, grinning. Calo and Galdo snickered, and Sabetha glared at him. They all seemed to be in on this secret joke that had previously just been between the two prodigies. Chains furrowed his brows.

“Jean, why don’t you tell Chains what Jenora taught you first, hm?” She was challenging him, an arched brow from her met with a similar glare from him.

“She taught me how to manage an unruly troupe who have bad habits of bringing their rather _personal_ issues into the theater.” The big fellow retorted. Chains had no idea to what they were alluding, but he shook it off.

“Locke, what about you?” The priest asked his protege, who stopped mid chew, looking up at Sabetha who sat across the table as if for approval. She gave the most minuscule nod before Locke swallowed and then opened his mouth to speak.

“We learned that a young baron’s ego is an easily manipulated thing when met with nobility to match his own, even if it’s false.” Locke said and at this, Sabetha smiled.

“We also learned that we’re rather capable of hiding rather famous bodies in plain sight when those young barons get too friendly.” Chains’ brow knit even tighter in deep concern and alarm, but judging by the grins of all the Gentleman Bastards, they’d clearly pulled off some great scheme in a proper enough way that the offended Esparan nobles wouldn’t be coming after them. That knowledge gave the old priest a swell of pride and relief; the trip _had_ taught them to clean up after their own messes. Thank the _gods._

“Very, _very_ good. I’ll expect to hear more later, but for now, we will eat. I’ve drawn baths for you lot, and you desperately need it. The road did not spare you any sweat or dust, and we’re not to be living in any more filth than necessary.” He announced in between bites of steamed and salted broccoli. Chains noticed Locke and Sabetha’s eyes meet for a moment, a silent conversation seeming to be taking place between the two of them told entirely through the slightest changes in facial expression. It was over in a second before the two of them looked back down at their dinners.

Something was _definitely_ off.


	2. Lets Not Use Reason While My Tits Are Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sabetha pays Locke a midnight visit and Jean + the Sanzas poke a bit of fun at breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is where things get a bit spicy and give the fic its ~explicit rating~

Several times during dinner, the twins and Jean made veiled jokes alluding to the newly formed sexual nature of Locke and Sabetha’s relationship and every time that happened a little bit of Locke feared that Chains would pick up what they were all putting down and that he would pluck his eyeballs out and make a _real_ eyeless priest of him. That didn’t stop the blood rushing straight to his cock the moment that he felt Beth stick out her leg and nudge the inside of his thigh with her foot upon Chains’ mentions of a bath. Her eyes seemed to ask the question he had only just begun to fantasize about, despite himself: _Do you want to bathe together?_

Well, it turned out that Chains had drawn them all separate baths in separate chambers of the elderglass burrow, so it wasn’t even possible to be in the same room without raising alarms. Locke finished his bath quicker than the others, and after briefly bidding Father Chains goodnight, he went back to his and Jean’s bedchambers to lie down and read the dullest book of arithmetic he could find. He was hoping to try and distract from the memories of Sabetha on top of and underneath him, giggling, panting, gasping, her pale skin glistening in the dim alchemical light with sweat and _Crooked Warden_ since when did the number 8 look so suggestively like a pair of tits?

Locke shut the book and sighed in exasperation, running his hands through his still-drying hair as the arithmetic book lay discarded on his bare chest. He was wearing only his breeches and breechclout, too hot and bothered to bother with the hotness brought by a tunic. When the door creaked open and clicked when shut closed, Locke didn’t bother to look over.

“Get a good bath, Tannen?” He asked, hoping to distract himself with mindless conversation as he sat upright.

“Shhh,” Locke nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that the person in his room was _not_ , in fact, Jean, but Sabetha in a thin linen shift that hung off of her like fine drapery. Locke’s mouth went dry when he noticed the color of her hair— she’d washed out the alchemical dyes, and her dampened braid seemed to shine the color of fire. She set her alchemical globe down on the writing desk before placing a flat hand on Locke’s chest, gently pushing him on his back as she swung a leg over his lap until she was seated atop him. She then leaned forward to begin pressing gentle kisses to the sensitive skin on his neck. Somehow, despite the fact that Locke was quite literally living out the fantasy of his dreams, logic managed to push its way to the forefront of his mind clouded by pure teenaged desire.

“Beth, Jean is gonna—“ She shut him up by pressing her lips to his for a moment as his hands found her hips.

“I’ve told Jean to stay in my bedchambers for tonight.” Sabetha whispered as she began to drag her kisses along Locke’s jaw. The Lamora sense of logic gave one last sputtering, dying attempt for victory as Sabetha began to roll her hips.

“If Chains finds us, he’ll have my bloody head on a—“ As he spoke, Sabetha sat upright, pulling the nightdress off of her body to reveal two very compelling counterarguments. Any semblance of remaining logic in Locke’s brain was crushed in that instant, his hands slowly trailing up her torso until his thumbs gently rubbed over her nipples, earning him a shaky breath from her.

“Now Locke,” She started, as if she were chiding a little child, pulling the strings of her linen breechclout. “Let’s not use reason while my tits are out, hm?” She momentarily shifted her position to shimmy out of her breechclout, during which time Locke took the opportunity to remove his own extraneous garments. She grinned as she positioned herself before him, one finger trailing the length of his stiffened cock.

“If it’s Chains’ wrath you’re wanting to avoid, we’ll just have to be very, very—“ She paused her speech momentarily as she sank onto his cock, eliciting a stifled moan from Locke as he bit the inside of his cheek. “ _Quiet._ ” Sabetha grinned. Locke sat up, cupping her neck with one hand as she began to move on top of him. His free arm hugged her, pulling her chest right against his as he kissed her lips almost lazily. The hand cupping her neck was now grasping a handful of her orange hair, each of his five fingers massaging circles into her scalp, eliciting low, satisfied hums of pleasure from her lips. Locke smiled as he brought his kisses to her neck, grinning even further as he discovered a spot that made her gasp and caused her breathing to grow shallow. As he gently took the flesh there between his teeth, Sabetha sped up her movements, seeming to grow frantic, impatient. Locke matched her movements in kind, sucking and biting the soft spot beneath her jaw, busying his fingers against the sweet spot of her cunt until Sabetha stiffened, clutching him, her nails digging into his back with a ferocity. She shuddered, gasping, and Locke felt his own release upon her whispering his name as she came down from hers. They sat there for a moment, panting and sweating, holding one another in their upright seated position until Locke fell down on his back with a sigh. Sabetha then climbed off of him, grinning as she grabbed a linen cloth from the desk and used it to clean the both of them up. Once the messes of their lovemaking were properly cleaned up, Sabetha slipped back into her long nightgown and into bed next to Locke.

“Are you planning to sleep here?” He asked incredulously, pulling his breeches back on over his breechclout. Beth grinned wickedly as she nodded innocently.

“We wouldn’t want to wake poor old Jean to switch now, would we?” She teased in low and breathy whisper, kissing his shoulder before turning her back to his chest, the two of them in a spoon.

“Preva help me, I’ve been made into a fool.” Locke whispered as he kissed the back of her head. Sabetha giggled at this.

“I hope the gods give you your bloody wits back— You’ve always been a fool for me. Only now you’re a fool who fucks.” She replied in another whisper of her own.

+

She woke early the next morning, before Chains, Jean, or Locke, slipping out of Locke’s bed and chambers and into her own. She grabbed a blanket-like scarf from her chest and wrapped it around her body before heading into the dining room where she found both of the Sanzas cooking up some sausages for breakfast.

“Judging by the state of your hair—“ Began Galdo.

“And the state of your dress—“ Continued Calo.

“I would say that you and our dear thorn didn’t get much sleep last night.” Galdo finished. Sabetha shot them a look before turning to make sure Chains wasn’t yet awake.

“Please for the love of the bloody Crooked Warden, _do not_ mention this to or around Chains.” She said in an urgent whisper. The twins simply chuckled as they tossed spices back and forth, one standing at the alchemical stove and the other standing by the spice cabinet.

“Don’t worry, Beth. We’re only teasing.” Calo assured her.

“Yeah, we’ll only tell him if you don’t cut us in on the treatment Lamora’s gettin— OW!” Galdo yelped before laughing as Sabetha’s shoe hit his head. Calo, chuckling, tossed it back to her.

“Quit joking or I’ll sic Jean on you.” She hissed. Galdo put his hands up in giggling defeat.

“Just kidding, Beth. Just kidding.” He laughed. She glared at him before pouring herself a mug of coffee from the pot. Within ten minutes, Jean and Chains emerged from their chambers, looking relatively well rested, and two minutes after that, Locke came out, looking rather bedraggled. As Calo served breakfast, the other Gentleman Bastards seated themselves and began eating.

“Jean, could you pass the butter?” Sabetha asked. Galdo looked at him and gave a minuscule nod before the Tannen boy handed over the butter. Jean’s eyes flicked between Locke seated next to him and Sabetha across the table, the big man barely able to keep his chuckling to himself. Through his most impressive slight of hand, he had slipped Sabetha’s food a bit of extra hot pepper. As she took a bite out of the sausage, she coughed profusely, managing a sip of water after a few moments of concern from both Locke and Chains. Jean somehow managed to compose his stifled giggling well enough once she had calmed down to deliver the punchline.

“You alright Sabetha? It looks like you just choked on some sausage.” The big man asked, grinning. Sabetha glared. Locke blushed. Chains furrowed his brows before setting down his fork and knife and dabbing his mouth with his napkin.

“I’ve had some specialized candles made at a shop in the Videnza. They’ve been curated with a specific scent to put our latest target on edge— he’s the cousin of a minor don, and the scent of these candles is supposed to trigger a sense of fear, which he will mistake for clairvoyance when he’s jumped later on the walk home that he supposed was the safe route. He’s got a fickle mind, one easily manipulated. I have the order here, so I’ll need one of you to go pick them up for me.” Sabetha and Locke looked up at one another before the redhead put down her utensils.

“Locke and I can go.” She offered. Calo, Galdo, and Jean all exchanged a knowing look as Chains waved it off.

“No need, I can just send you.” He said. Locke then put down _his_ utensils.

“Well, if it’s in the Videnza, we wouldn’t want Sabetha to go alone. If these candles were specially made, she could make a good pose as the daughter of a merchant or artisan and I could pose as her minder. People wouldn’t look twice at a girl accompanied by a boy in the Videnza, but they may turn heards or scrunch brows at a rich girl all by herself picking up an expensive order. It’ll look more natural. Rich girls have minders.” Locke, while technically right, was lying through his teeth and Sabetha knew it. Thank the gods that Chains considered the honest bit and nodded, however skeptical.

“Alright then. You two, into some modestly nice clothes and get going. And uh, both of you should drag a comb through your hair. You look like you didn’t get any sleep at all last night.” Chains’ comment was an off handed one, but Sabetha blushed deeply at it. She was grateful for dim alchemical lighting as she and Locke hurried over to the wardrobe to dress themselves. Chains’ eyes followed them into the wardrobe, narrowed with suspicion; of what, he had yet to determine. They came out in the fineries suited for their characters and took the receipt for the order before heading out of one of the many secret entrances and exits to the elderglass burrow. About ten minutes later, Chains turned to the three remaining boys who were washing up the dishes in a soap tub.

“Jean, Calo, Galdo, let it be known that the Eyeless Priest of Perelandro is indisposed with a mild illness this morning. I have an errand to run.” With that, Chains decided to go and see just exactly what was going on between Locke and Sabetha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hoping to get this fic done fairly soon, but I think it’ll end up being five chapters?? Nothing huge— But there’s chapter two!


	3. Ah, Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Locke gives something to Sabetha in an alley, Chains gets incredibly angry, and then incredibly sad.

Sabetha had braided her hair with little flowers for the brief trip to collect the specially made candles from the shop in the Videnza. She wore a green cotton dress with an under-bust corset belt, which paired brilliantly with her low neckline and both she and Locke knew it. Locke was dressed in some simply made clean white tunic, cotton vest, wool breeches, and boots, making him look like the perfect manservant. And as they walked towards a rather empty and secluded alleyway, Sabetha grabbed her manservant by the arm and pulled him in, the two of them grinning in anticipation. Within a moment, Locke had her against the wall behind an abandoned cart, kissing her with a hunger— clearly their midnight activities did little to sate his appetite or curb his vigor. His deft and capable hands worked quickly at unlacing her corset, tossing it to the side just past the entrance to the alleyway before he untied the string at the hem of her bust, baring her pale breasts to him.

“Locke,” She whispered as he kissed her nipples hungrily, massaging her tits with a fervor.

“Hm?” He asked, quickly divesting himself of his cotton vest as his hands busied themselves with bunching the bottom of her dress up around her waist.

“Oh gods, _Locke_ ,” She breathed again, and as his lips found her hips, he realized she wasn’t asking anything, merely saying his name. _Gods_ that was hot. He grinned against her skin as he deftly untied the drawstring of her breechclout, allowing the garment to drop to her ankles before she stepped out of them and he hooked her right knee over his shoulder, his head and right hand disappearing beneath her skirts. Sabetha bit her fist to keep from crying out as Locke’s tongue and fingers worked at her cunt. Within a minute, she was shaking with her release, and Locke came up smiling. She kissed him, grinning lazily as he tied the drawstring of her dress before she gently pushed him off of her.

“I could spend the rest of the day just kissing you and not tire of it, but we should make ourselves presentable and collect the candles before Chains notices how long we’ve been gone.” She whispered. Locke nodded in agreement before grabbing his vest, dusting it off before slipping it back on while Sabetha looked around for her corset, her expression confused.

“Locke, have you seen my—“ She turned towards the entrance of the alleyway and stopped dead in her tracks, frozen in fear.

“Seen your what?” He asked, stepping out from behind the cart where they had just been enjoying themselves when he saw the looming figure of none other than Chains. He was seething with rage, holding Sabetha’s corset before he threw it at her.

“Chains, I—“ She began, but a single look cut her off.

“I sent you down to the Videnza to collect some stupid fucking candles, and when I find your corset beside a secluded alleyway, I assume the worst has happened Sabetha. Preva’s _tits_ , girl! Why is your hair uncovered, undyed? Do you know what I thought was happening?” Chains spat with fury. He was right in front of her now, looking down at her. She looked like she was on the verge of tears as Locke opened his mouth to speak, but he didn’t get the chance.

“And you! You talked me into sending you out here, what, so you could sully your sister thief’s honor?” At this he landed a solid smack upside Locke’s head, to which Sabetha stood between them, pushing their garrista back with enough force to shock both Chains and Locke.

“HEY! If you want to lecture me about my bloody _safety_ you should recall that Jeremites take red headed _virgins_ , so clearly you’ve no bloody fucking brains in that falsely eyeless, thick skulled, bloody fucking head of yours if you’ll condemn Locke in the same breath for sullying my godsdamned _honor!_ And if you want to bitch and whine about my motherfucking virginity, you’re several weeks _too fucking late._ ” She snarled, keeping sure that her voice barely raised about a stressed whisper. Chains was taken aback, but still looking furious as he grabbed the order receipt from Locke’s vest pocket.

“I’ll get the bloody order myself.” He hissed before stalking off. Once they were alone again, Locke turned to her. She was seething as she laced up her underbust corset belt, watching Chains’ sulking form as he attempted to shake off his anger in walking.

“Let’s go.” She whispered, clearly still enraged as she grabbed his hands and the pair of thieves began hurrying back towards the temple of Perelandro.

+

Chains really did not want to be in this position. Not in the slightest. What his pseudo-adopted pezon chose to do in their bedchambers was their own business— Gods knew that Calo and Galdo spent enough of their coin in the company of those lovely women at the Gilded Lillies, and apparently Jean had recently begun to take interest in that sort of pastime himself. But Locke and Sabetha— Gods, he couldn’t even think about it, definitely not sober.

Chains downed his third brandy at the Last Mistake, a tired and surly expression on his face when Capa Vencarlo Barsavi sat down opposite him in the booth.

“Is everything alright, Chains?” The thieving priest looked up from the bottom of his glass at the Capa of Camorr sitting opposite him before groaning loudly and buried his face in his hands.

“Absolutely not, Barsavi. Abso-fucking-lutely not.” He grumbled. Barsavi furrowed his brow as he nodded at the waitress who gave him his usual mug of beer as well as one for Chains.

“What seems to be your trouble, old friend?” He asked, genuine concern in his voice as he wiped suds of the foaming beer from his mustache. Chains sat up straight, rubbing his weary eyes as he did so, downing his fourth shot of brandy before sighing loudly.

“I sent the little fuckers to Espara for a _vacation_. To grab some honest coin as actors and some dishonest coin as thieves. To see the world. And while they were over there, Sabetha and Locke started _fucking each other_ and they haven’t _stopped,_ and today I happened upon them _doingitinagodsdamnedmotherfuckingalley!_ ” Chains spat as he grabbed his mug of beer. Barsavi raised his eyebrows in surprise and amusement, attempting to conceal his chuckling. “It’s not fucking funny, Ven.” Chains grumbled, prompting Barsavi to chuckle even louder.

“Not for you, perhaps.” The Capa laughed. Chains glowered, his eyes fixed on the bottom of his beer. The Capa studied the priest, his smile fading into an expression of thoughtful concern.

“Chains, she’s a woman now. She’s survived this long in _Camorr_ of all places, she’s been smart and careful enough. She’s not going to end up like Mila.” He said, his voice low and reassuring as he reached across the table to grab Chains’ hand.

“Don’t.” When the priest looked back up, Barsavi could see that he had tears in his eyes. “Don’t tell me to put my worries aside when you don’t know what it’s like to care for a red haired girl. Nazca’s hair is blacker than night, your _wife’s_ hair is blacker than night. I’ll let you tell me to calm down about it once you’ve seen them cut open and raped by a dozen Jeremites—“ Vencarlo put up his hands, a simple but powerful gesture, that shut Chains up. He was letting his friend know that he was going too far and that his patience wouldn’t last.

“I’m well aware that I’ll never share your burden. But they’re teenagers, Chains. Let them fuck who they want, just tell them to be more careful about it, and make sure she never runs out of a postnight tonic. One Lamora in the city is plenty.” Barsavi said with a raised brow, reaching into his coat for something before sliding a blue glass bottle with a fancy stopper across the table. Chains, despite his status as a sixty year old man, blushed as he slipped it into his coat pocket. The Capa stood, dropping several silvers on the table as he turned ever so slightly to his friend.

“Don’t drink yourself into oblivion remembering them.” He whispered, placing a heavy hand on the priest’s shoulder perhaps a second longer than necessary before sauntering off and leaving The Last Mistake.

Chains sat there, staring at the bottom of his glass, memories of a red haired girl giggling in a wheat field blurring his mind until it blurred his eyes with the pain of a man who’s known loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mila???👀


	4. Out With It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sabetha is angry, horny, soft, and emo in that order.

When they returned back to the elderglass burrow, Sabetha was still fuming. She was pacing in her bedchambers, Locke seated on her bed trying desperately not to think about all the different ways Chains would be torturing him later. Finally, the thoughts brewing within that red head of hers began to spill out.

“You know, when Calo and Galdo first started going to the Gilded Lilies, Chains gave them a bit of extra silver in their weekly allowances. He _did_ that! And the gods know he’d just chuckle and pat Jean on the fucking back if he knew about Jenora. And she was nearly twice his age! But when _I_ start having sex gods _forbid_ he be happy for us! We may be his pezon, but are our own people, and we can fuck whoever we like!” She spat, still pacing. Locke nodded, not wanting to say anything for fear of detonating the ticking bomb of anger that was his lover. Then suddenly, she turned to face him. “You know what? Bolt the door.” She said. He furrowed his brows, confused and concerned.

“W-Why?” He asked, and to his simultaneous delight and dismay, Sabetha began unlacing her corset.

“If he has such an issue with us fucking, so be it. I happen to have an issue with us _not_ fucking at the present time. So bolt the door.” She said again, pulling the drawstrings at her bust. Locke stood, uncertain if he was standing to stop her or to bolt the godsdamned door.

“Beth, if he gets any more angry, he’ll—“ He was cut off when Sabetha kissed him, her green dress abandoned on the floor, leaving her in only her hose and her breechclout.

“Locke, love, what did I say about using reason while my tits are out?” She whispered against his lips. His hands involuntarily found the small of her back and drew her closer to him as she used one hand to entangle her fingers in his hair and the other to bolt the door herself. 

Once the door was properly bolted shut, Sabetha slammed Locke against it, working sloppily to divest him of his vest and tunic while he kicked off his boots and socks. She kissed him angrily, and he knew that the anger and spite seething within her were coming out in the form of sex, but hell, he was more than happy to be along for the ride as she pulled him down over her on her bed. Locke hurried to wriggle out of his breeches, cursing loudly when Sabetha began to stroke his cock through his breechclout as his typically deft and expertly nimble fingers fumbled with removing the damned garment. Once the linen barrier was discarded, Locke pushed into Sabetha, earning him a low moan of pleasure from her lips. He stay still for just a moment before the two began to move together to the beat of some silent, carnal drum. Sabetha hooked her feet against his thighs behind him, pushing him further into her with every thrust. She kissed him with a ferocity neither had experienced before, and Locke made a mental note that he rather enjoyed fucking an angry Sabetha— so long as her anger was directed at someone other than him.

He brought one hand between the two of them to aid her climax, his nimble fingers making quick work of her pleasure against the bundle of nerves at the top of her cunt, and she came breathlessly moments later. The sight of Sabetha’s flame red hair fanned out against the pillow beneath him, the baby hairs sticking to her ivory sweat slicked skin, her head tossed back, her eyes shut tight, and the feel of her clenching around him was a bit too much for Locke to handle, spurring his release to quickly follow her own.

He collapsed beside her, panting heavily as Sabetha turned on her side to face him. He turned his head, noticing the thoughtful and gentle gaze upon his lover’s face and he shifted so his body faced her own. He could tell that she was in a rare state, one of vulnerability and rawness, and he didn’t want to miss whatever she was going to say. He loved her like this. She was completely herself, with no dyes, no costumes, and no traces of a false face left clinging to her like perfume. She gingerly took his right hand in both of hers and pressed the most gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“I won’t let Chains take this away. I—” She paused, uncertain for just a moment before sighing and continuing. “I love you, Locke. It would appear that despite my best efforts, I have been charmed by you.” The hint of a grin graced her lips as a smile of the purest contentment and bliss spread across his own. He twirled a lock of her orange hair around his left index finger before dropping it to gently caress her face.

“I love you too, Sabetha.” He whispered. Now her grin was a smile fit to match his as she leaned forward to kiss him. The kiss was long and slow, mixed intermittently with giggles before they finally parted, Sabeth still holding his hand and Locke still holding her face, the two of them resting their foreheads against one another.

“I wish we could never leave this bed.” Locke whispered. Sabetha nodded in agreement, absentmindedly stroking her thumb over a knuckle of his index finger. They lay there, naked and peaceful, all the rage from before cast aside with their clothes, and all was well.

Until they heard a pounding knock at the door.

“Locke, I want to see you on the roof.” Chains said, his voice unusually calm. Locke raised his brows at Sabetha, her face once again bitter and surly.

“Well Beth, this has been lovely, but I think Chains is about to make use of the shark tooth around my neck and throw me to my death.” He said, planting a little kiss on her forehead before sitting up and hurrying to put on his breechclout. Sabetha sat up after him, wrapping her arms across his chest from behind possessively as if she were a stubborn babe clinging to her mother’s leg at the entrance to a nursery.

“No! I will _not_ let you take any sort of bloody _scolding_ from Chains. At least not alone.” She whispered into his shoulder, gently kissing his glistening flesh.

“ _Now,_ Locke.” Chains reprimanded from outside. “If you think I can’t charm this lock and get in on my own, you’ll be damned sorry in a minute.” Sabetha glared at the door as she pulled on her hose and breechclout, Locke hurrying to get into his breeches.

“If you come in here, _you’ll_ be damned sorry, Chains!” She yelled as she slipped out of her bed, tossing Locke his tunic that had been left discarded on the floor.

“”And why the fuck is that?” He asked, the first clicks of metal tools on the lock making themselves heard.

“Because I’m fucking naked!” Sabetha yelled again, a smug grin on her face as she heard Chains drop the tools and curse loudly.

“Thirteen gods, I’m not going to hurt you, Locke, I just— I just want to talk!” He said. The man seemed genuinely exasperated, a look of concern exchanged between the two young thieves before Sabetha slipped her shift over her head and clasped her dressing gown at the waist before opening the door.

“If you just want to talk, then you may talk to me.” She said, arms crossed over her chest, brown eyes defiantly boring into that of her garrista. Chains gave a brief glance at Locke, who was looking uncertain and scared before looking back at Sabetha, sighing, and jerking his head up towards the roof. She moved swiftly past him, Chains looking at Locke one more time before shaking his head and following his redheaded pezon up towards the temple roof.

She was already seated, knees tucked under her chin when he arrived and sat down next to her, smoking a cigarette. Chains rubbed his temples with his free hand before passing the cigarette over to her, clearly surprising the young thief. She coughed a bit after her first drag, but masked it well enough before passing it back. Chains took one long drag before starting.

“I owe you an apology.” He said slowly, passing the cigarette back to Sabetha as she scoffed, accepting it.

“Bloody fucking right, you do.” She said boldly. Chains chuckled despite himself, accepting the cigarette back.

“So bloody cocksure, you lot.” He took another drag before continuing. “I was unfair to you and Locke. If you wish to— to _bed_ one another, you are free to do so. Although, I did expect you to aim a little higher than Locke Lamora.” He quipped, earning himself a punch in the arm, despite the grin on her face. He looked over at her and smoothed her red hair down with one hand, smiling wistfully and almost... _painfully_ at the girl. He took another long drag, looking out onto the skyline of the city before he began.

“I love you like a daughter, Beth. Like my own daughter.” She was silent as she took the shrinking cigarette stick from his fingers.

“I know.” She finally said, more quiet than a mouse. Chains shook his head.

“No, Sabetha, I don’t just say that.” Chains looked back at her, wide, calf-brown eyes looking up at him, uncertain and confused. The old priest sighed. “I love you like _Mila._ My daughter.” He whispered, speaking her name out to the wind for the first time in nigh on three decades. Sabetha said nothing, so he continued.

“When I was a boy, barely eighteen years old, a redheaded girl two years my senior in my village, Eleni, somehow let me convince her to be my wife. She held the affections of nearly everyone in the village, men and women alike, yet for some unknown reason, she chose to love me. We were married in the sight of Dama Elliza on a summer morning. It was quite possibly the happiest day of my life. But the following spring, I lost her. All I had left of my wife was a redheaded babe who she had named Mila for my mother with her dying breath. It was hard, certainly, raising a child on my own, but it grew easier with time. She grew more and more like her mother every day until one day, eight years down the line, the grief seemed almost bearable.” Chains’ face grew dark, any traces of a faint smile disappearing from his face. “I was gone to the market for an _hour._ When I came home, Mila was nowhere to be seen. I had the entire village out looking for her. My voice went hoarse just from calling her name. It wasn’t until nightfall that we found her body in the bushes on the side of a road. She— she had been bled. Bled and raped.” The silence that hung in the air between them was thick with the horrifying reality of what the priest had just confessed. He had a daughter, a _red haired_ daughter— and one who had succumbed to the same fate that Sabetha had spent her life trying so desperately to avoid. The cigarette stub was left forgotten on the stone floor of the roof. “Shortly thereafter I left my village and came to Camorr. I fell in with a gang of thieves. I hated stealing at first, but eventually came to love it, obviously. What I have loved the most of all aspects of this sacred profession of bullshit, deception, and unknown faith has been abiding by our first commandment— _thieves prosper._ No man, woman, or child gets left behind or forgotten. But there are times, Beth, at no fault of your own, that I see you as a second chance. That’s why I was so angry. Because for a horrible, gods-forsaken moment, I feared that history had repeated itself, and I— I don’t think I could live with myself if it had. I was angry at myself for letting you out with your natural hair, I was angry at you for being so reckless, and I was angry at Locke for just _being there_.” At this, Chains’ voice, which had long been threatening to crack, broke into a sob and Sabetha threw her arms around his neck. The two thieves sat for a moment, sobbing in a melancholy embrace, both beyond grateful for the other in that moment.

Some minutes later, Sabetha pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry about Eleni, I’m sorry about Mila, I’m just _so sorry_.” She managed through shaky breaths. Chains wiped his own tears with the hem of his sleeve.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, my dearest Sabetha. I just— I just want you to know that I care about you. Not just as your garrista but, if you’ll allow me the title, as your father.” He asked gently. Sabetha smiled through her tears and nodded.

“Of _course._ ” She whispered. They sat in grateful silence for a moment longer before Chains remembered why he wanted to bring Locke up to the roof in the first place, and he reached into his pocket.

“There’s one more thing I wanted to discuss with you.” The priest pulled out the glass bottle that the capa had given him earlier that evening at The Last Mistake and placed it in his daughter’s hands.

“What’s this?” Sabetha asked, clearly confused as she examined the labelless blue glass.

“It’s, ah, it’s what is often referred to as a poorwife’s tea, or a postnight tonic. You drink it after you, ah... um...” He struggled to find a gentle word for it before she found the word for him.

“Fuck?” She offered to her floundering father. He rolled his eyes in defeat.

“Yes, after you _fuck_. If the man... _finishes_ , be sure to swallow one gulp of the stuff any time between a moment after to the following night.” He explained, his face looking as contorted as though he had just bit into a lemon. Sabetha nodded before removing the cork, sniffing the stuff, and recoiling immediately.

“It smells _horrible!_ ” She said in disgust. Chains chuckled.

“Well do you want another little Locke Lamora running around Camorr?” Chains asked. The expression that followed was one of greater disgust than before.

“ _Gods_ no.” She muttered. Chains waved his hand toward the bottle.

“Then you’ll drink that right now and pray that Dama Elliza has not seen it fit for Lamora’s seed to have taken root already.” Sabetha cringed as she downed a single gulp of the brackish tonic before re-corking the bottle. Chains grinned. “You’ll grow accustomed to the taste.” He said, standing up with a series of grunts before offering his hand to his daughter who was studying the bottle with a curious look.

“If... Nevermind.” She muttered, turning to leave. Chains shook his head.

“Out with it.” He demanded. She turned back to face him, cheeks red with embarrassment.

“If... If the man were to... finish _elsewhere_ , would I—“ Chains put up a hand to stop her.

“Then you won’t need it.” He said, eager to end the conversation. Sabetha nodded before looking back up at her father sheepishly.

“Thank you, Chains.” She whispered before standing on her tip-toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. The priest smiled back at her.

“Of course, my dear.” The two exchanged one last glance before descending the ladder back to temple and then the stairs back into the burrow where Sabetha embraced Locke warmly and whispered a reassurance followed by a sweet nothing that made him grin as he hugged her back.

The Sanzas and Jean teased the both of them for it, but every jest exchanged over dinner that evening was met with a smile. As Chains sat at the head of the table and watched his five children tease and bicker and joke, he felt the faint presence of his red headed wife and daughter, nearly laughing ever so softly at the notion of his entire family safe and sound under one roof. Oh, but a man could dream. And dream he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Littol fic completed:)  
> I’m hoping to write some more for this fandom bc like WOW it is under appreciated. Thank you for reading!!


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